A/N: A'ight, you've all been so patient, let's get this shit over with. Because honestly I want this story done so I can work on others that have actual actiony stuff in it pfff
Enjoy~
Dulled green eyes flittered to the clock nestled in the corner of the room, reading 8:45. He took a deep breath, raising a bottle of beer to his lips and taking another long sip. He could hear the hustle and bustle coming from the outside of Token's sitting room where he was being sequestered. He wanted to be angry that Bebe had lied to him, but he was too tired, just too emotionally drained to be upset with her for just trying to help him get out. His nose scrunched at the taste of the amber washing over his palate. Kyle had always had a strong disdain for beer, but it was what Token had had when they'd arrived nearly an hour beforehand.
The door opened and his eyes flickered towards it, watching Kenny and Bebe walking in with arms full of liquor bottles. He raised his brow as they set them on the coffee table in front of him. Kenny gestured to the lineup dramatically. "Ok, Ky, pick yer poison."
He shrugged listlessly, stroking his finger through a bead of condensation running down his bottle. "I really don't care," he said blankly. The blondes looked at each other before Bebe sighed, grabbing a bottle of strawberry vodka and screwing off the top, grabbing Kyle's beer bottle and trading them off. Kyle blinked, "I uh...I can have a glass, ya know."
"You don't want one and you damn well know it," she replied superiorly. Kyle briefly considered protesting before just sighing in defeat, nestling himself back into the cool leather of the couch beneath him. He just wanted this day to be over. He took a sip of the vodka, the taste dancing pleasantly on his tongue. His eyes slipped shut, his heart nearly stopping as nothing but Stan's face appeared behind his lids. Great. He took another long sip, vaguely aware of the couch dipping on either side of him.
He reopened his vision to the two of them and tried to shoot them a weak smile. "So, what's going on out there?" he asked softly.
Ken shrugged, throwing his arm around Kyle's shoulders, watching him drinking with sympathetic eyes. "Damage control," he said simply.
He cocked his head, "Of what?"
"Your little rumor problem," Bebe smiled, flicking his arm. "Cartman's going around telling people he started the rumors."
Kyle eyed her suspiciously, taking a quick glance at the bottle clutched in his hand to make sure he hadn't drank a lot more than he previously thought. "Why would he do that?"
Kenny cleared his throat awkwardly, "Yeah...yer gonna owe him. Can't be worse than gettin' sandwiches thrown at ya, though, right?" he winced.
"Great," he rolled his eyes. "Why would people believe him? I'm sure the people who started some of those stories are out there," he gestured towards the shut door pulsing with the bass of Token's music.
Bebe chuckled, "I hate that fatass but he's kind of a genius," she admitted. "He's acting like he lost a bet with Butters and had to tell the truth. He's doing that thing he does when he has to apologize to you," she smirked. "The whole 'won't look at you' deal and everything. He's quite the convincing actor," she shrugged.
"'Sides, who's gonna admit that they started the rumor when he brings it up?" Kenny smirked, reaching forward and grabbing a Jack Daniels from the table, unscrewing it and taking a long, satisfactory sip.
Kyle nodded slowly, taking his own swig and tonguing over his lips. "And I guess he'd be the easiest to believe he'd start a rumor mill about me..." he trailed off and sighed. "Well...hopefully he can help at least a little. Wonder what it'll cost me, though," he said dryly, leaning back against Kenny tiredly.
Kenny jostled him lightly with a smile, "Nothing less than all your dignity, I'm sure."
Kyle gave a half-hearted snort, "Probably." He took another drink, oblivious to Kenny and Bebe giving each other subtle signals over his head as he stared at the clean wine-colored carpeting beneath his feet. Kenny bit his lip as Bebe raised her brow questionably, his heart sinking. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want Kyle to suffer more than he already had today, but he knew as well as anyone that this bullshit had to stop.
"Hey, Ky?" he asked softly, poking his arm. Kyle turned and looked at him, those bright green eyes wide as he stared at him. "How're ya feelin'?"
He shrugged, "Better, I guess. Two beers and this are helping," he chuckled, shaking the bottle a bit. "I'm just...tired. Tired and upset. I want Stan to apologize or me to just feel better or just something good to happen...a-and I just want to curl up and die," he finally broke, his voice cracking at the end. Kenny's heart lurched, but that's what he was waiting for. He nodded to Bebe, who patted Kyle's shoulder, getting up and heading out of the room in silence. Kyle watched after her confusedly before looking back at Kenny. The blonde was staring at him intensively, biting his cheek. Kyle was right at the point he needed to be. A few drinks in got him talking, telling people how he really felt without trying to be an overly-defensive mess. They had a fine-eyed number of sips left before he became lucid and went on a full-on rampage which he'd forget about the next day. Everything had to work and fast.
"I'm sorry ya feel so bad, Kyle," he said gently. "But ya don't wanna die."
"Yes, I do," he choked out, wiping his eyes. "Or...just go into a coma. Wake up in three years with amnesia and just start over again."
Kenny shook him, a sad glaze over his eyes. "Then you'd forget about me," he said cheekily.
"You're going in the coma with me," he pouted, taking another long sip and sighing as Kenny snickered, shaking his head. "Don't laugh, Buddy. I'm taking you dooowwwnnn," he pointed towards the floor and raised his brow in challenge.
Ken smirked, Kyle's slight slur telling him to get the alcohol out of his hands. He did so and Kyle whined, reaching over Kenny's lap and grabbing towards the bottle. Kenny shook his head, pushing against his shoulder. "Nope, I'm spacin' you out, Broflovski," he said. "I ain't draggin' yer drunk ass back to yer house."
"I'll sleep here," he protested with a pout, his slender fingers still reaching towards it as he dangled over Ken's legs still.
"No," he said firmly, reaching over and putting the bottle back on the in-table, patting Kyle's head as he let out another high-pitched wail.
"You suck, Kenny," he pouted, giving up and just flopping uselessly on his lap. He looked up and twisted his lips, silently begging for Kenny to let him drink himself to sleep. The blonde shrugged, taking his whiskey and setting it beside Kyle's bottle. They stayed in that position for a little while, Kyle's eyes fleeting towards the drinks and Kenny, his buzzed mind wondering if he could beat Kenny in a fight if he had to. The blonde was busy mindlessly playing with a curl of Kyle's hair, his lips set in a grim line. He didn't want this conversation to happen. He didn't want Bebe to bring back her target. The last person Ken wanted to see or hear was Stan fucking Marsh. But after tucking Kyle away in the sitting room and being surrounded by Bebe, Token and his group and practically screamed at, he'd had to cave. He just knew one thing: Stan was walking a very fine line and he was liable to get the full brunt of Kenny's fist if he didn't tread carefully. But he knew that didn't matter. What mattered was getting Kyle to crawl out of the hole Stan had thrown him into.
"Stan would never do this," Kyle murmured against his legs.
Ken cocked his head, "Do what?"
"...Play with my hair," he said quietly.
"Want me to stop?" he cringed.
Kyle shook his head, nuzzling into the warmth of Kenny's thighs and taking a long breath. "No. I like it," he admitted shyly. Kenny blinked, huffing out a little laugh through his nose. Honest drinking Kyle was always his favorite. He'd told Kenny so much over the years through their drunken adventures together, things that made the blonde fall for him and fall for him hard. This was definitely no exception. They relished in the serenity of it all, their bodies vibrating along with the music outside the room. Deep, calming breaths flew through both of them before they looked to see the door opening once more.
Bebe stepped in, eyeing their position and gulping. "Uh..." she started before Wendy and Clyde stepped into the room, followed closely by a very distraught looking Stan.
"Oh my god are you kidding me?" he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly.
Kyle blinked, slowly sitting up off of Kenny and his jaw quivering. "Leave," he said quietly, but with a tinge of malice that made them all gulp.
"Kyle, Stan wants to talk," Wendy said softly, putting her hands up defensively. "Just talk, nothing else."
"He's said enough today, you fucking slut!" he broke from his subdued tone and screamed. Wendy's face fell and she looked at the floor shamefully, rubbing her arm self-consciously. Stan subtly touched her back and she shuddered. She knew Kyle didn't mean it, but damn did it hurt coming from someone like him.
"Kyle, Kyle, down," Kenny bit his lip, turning and putting his hands around Kyle's arms that were heaving with his furious panting. Sparks flew through his jade irises, locked on Stan and ready to murder it seemed.
Stan bit his lip, "Ky, please."
"Don't you fucking 'Ky' me," he spat, grating his teeth. "Take that whore that you're so 'in love' with and leave."
Stan's brows furrowed, "Well then how about you and your whore go fuck off?!" he gestured at Kenny wildly. The blonde looked rearing to leap up and take him down, a bit grateful that his energy was focused on Kyle for the moment. Clyde groaned and rolled his eyes, pushing him further into the room and shutting the door with a soft click.
Bebe and Wendy stepped between the group at the foot of the coffee table, looking at the boys sternly. "Boys, enough," Bebe said firmly. "You two are acting fucking ridiculous!"
"No, he is!" they both shouted, pointing at each other accusingly.
"Stan," Wendy hissed. "You said you wanted to talk to Kyle, not start another fucking fight!"
"But he's laying on Kenny's-"
"It doesn't matter!" she interrupted his whiny protest. Clyde moved to grab a chair and set it in front of the coffee table. Wendy grabbed Stan's arm and marched him to it, shoving him down to sit across from the still-fuming redhead. "Boys, you need to talk it out. And you're not leaving this fucking room until you do. You each have two people on your sides, so no one is cornered here and there is going to be no physical confrontation, understand?" she looked between them with a sharp slice of her grey eyes.
"Oh?" Kyle gave a fake laugh. "And what makes you think I should listen to you?" he sneered.
"Yer not. Yer gonna to listen t' me," Kenny broke in, Kyle whipping his head around and staring at the blonde confusedly. "Ky," he said softly. "Ya don't want this. Ya don't want t' be angry at him." He rubbed his hand up and down Kyle's arm, a part of him fearful from the tenseness lingering in the muscle. Kyle was ready to leap the moment Kenny's hands lost contact, he could feel it.
Kyle's jaw dropped, "You were there!" he protested. "Kenny, he called me a fucking downgrade!"
"You what?!" Wendy yelled, whipping her head over to Stan who cringed.
"Oh, Dude," Clyde winced.
Wendy growled, slapping Stan's head pointedly. He winced, rubbing over the victim spot. "Jesus fucking Christ, Stanley!"
"I'm sorry," he whispered guiltily.
Kenny took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure and looking at Kyle again. "Then don't be one," he said. Kyle looked at him like he'd grown a second head and he reached up, squeezing the smaller boy's shoulders. "He n' Wendy made up after all the bullshit arguments they've had. Don't make yerself the drama queen in his life," he said. "Prove yer better than that bitch," he shot a glare at Wendy who returned it for a brief moment before letting it falter.
"I already did," Kyle growled, turning back and facing Stan who was sitting there with a stoney face. Kyle knew that look better than anyone. It was Stan's infamous 'If I speak right now I'll lose my goddamn mind' expression. "I proved it over seven months that she could never hold down," he pointed at the girl angrily. "I picked up this asshole time and again...Made him my whole fucking WORLD!" he screamed, standing up suddenly, ripping out of Kenny's hold. "But no. No, he wants the bitch who treats him like he's a fucking appetizer!"
"Appetizer?" Clyde raised his brow.
"Good to have now and again, but only if you're feeling it," he clarified lowly.
Wendy's shoulders dropped lower and she sniffled. "Kyle," she said, her voice cracking. "Kyle I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean to disrespect you."
"Well you have a funny way of showing it, Testaburger," he snarled. "It isn't just that you spread your legs for him yesterday. You think I didn't fucking notice you trailing him like a goddamn bloodhound while we were dating?!" he yelled. "You think I was cool with you walking up and talking to him all the time? No," he snapped. "But I left you be. Because I trusted Stan," he looked back at the silent boy with a sharp glare. "Unlike him, who couldn't stand the thought of me and Kenny even being friends."
Stan took a deep breath, trying to control his rising temper, his building guilt. Everything felt ready to wash over him, drown him. Kyle was going to anchor him to the bottom of the sea if he didn't start talking. "Kyle," he said softly. "This isn't about Wendy. Or Kenny."
"Really? Because that seems to me that was your only reason for breaking up with me. Oh, you know, aside from the fact that I'm a downgrade and you don't love me," he drawled, crossing his arms angrily.
"Kyle, I do love you," he said, jumping up out of his seat and staring across the table at the small redhead. "Just not in the same way you love me!" Kenny and Clyde both stood beside the boys, ready to grab them if one should lead a full-out assault.
Kyle furrowed his brows, "You think I still love you? You should start a fucking stand-up act, Stan."
"Kyle," Kenny touched his arm. The redhead looked up at him and Kenny took a shuddery breath at the intensity behind those bloodshot eyes. "Ky, sit down. Let him explain." Kyle looked between him and Stan, both of them looking beyond desperate. Stan's face he couldn't care less about at this point, wanting nothing more than to rip it off. But Kenny looked like a goddamn wounded puppy and his slight buzz was making him more susceptible to his pitiable feelings for the blonde. He sighed angrily, plopping down beside Kenny with his arms still crossed, looking at Stan with an expression that read for him to tread very carefully.
Stan bit his lip, looking at his hands nervously. "Kyle, I'm sorry," he said earnestly. "I-I swear to God, I love you. I fucking love you to the goddamn ends of the Earth. Not in the same way as Wendy, though," he sighed, tapping his index fingers, highly aware of the five sets of eyes locked on him like a goddamn target. "I care about you so fucking much I thought it was that kind of love but...but no, it wasn't," he shook his head. "We just don't work as a couple," he admitted quietly. "But fuck, we work as best friends...a-and I don't want to lose that!" he finally looked up at the redhead, who recoiled a bit into Kenny at the tears welling in Stan's eyes. He hadn't seen Stan cry in a long time, and he couldn't help but feel some relief that he wasn't the only blubbering mess in this whole thing.
The room was silent for a moment before Kyle took a deep breath, watching the noirette closely. "Then why did you call me a downgrade?" he whispered.
Stan's shoulders slunk and he shook his head. "I didn't mean it," he sniffed. "I was just so...angry. Seeing you and Kenny...seeing you being happy with Kenny so soon drove me fucking crazy, the way seeing me and Wends did for you," he shrugged sheepishly. "You and Wendy are on the same goddamn level to me just...in different playing fields. That's all."
Kyle gulped down a dry breath, eyes flickering to Wendy who was staring at the floor, avoiding his gaze. Good. He looked back at the boy in front of him. "Why did you even agree to go out with me?" he asked lowly, feelings starting to re-emerge that he really did not want to deal with as he remembered very clearly how Stan looked so fucking happy when he accepted the request.
"Honestly, because...I-I think you're hot?" he winced. "And I figured that we work so well as friends that it'd be natural for us to be a couple..." he slowly sat back down into his chair, folding his hands between his knees and sighing. "But it wasn't. Something was always off, Kyle, you know it."
Kyle shifted, redirecting his gaze to the assortment of bottles still scattered on the coffee table. He definitely couldn't deny that. The first few months had been pure bliss, but things started failing for him long before they'd gotten to this point. He just figured it was a weird patch. He couldn't say that he didn't feel foolish at believing such a notion. "I guess that explains why it was off," he grumbled.
"Whaddya mean?" he blinked.
"You never treated me like I was your boyfriend, at least, not after the initial high died down," he muttered sadly, looking off to the side, focusing on Bebe's grey Mary Janes blankly. "The only thing extra was the sex, and...and you barely wanted me included in that," he slunk down.
Stan bit his lip, shaking his leg a bit in all the tenseness. "Why do you think that?" he asked. Wendy told him he needed the full story, that he'd have to ask questions and get Kyle to come out and say all of it or none of this would be fixed. God, he didn't want to, though, he felt like enough of a jackass to last him the rest of eternity.
Kyle looked back at him finally, his eyes glistening. The alcohol still flowing warmly through his system prompting him to keep going, to throw every goddamn fact at Stan that he could. "You didn't care about what I wanted. Never. You wouldn't even-" he stopped, looking around at their audience who were gaping at him like a goddamn circus attraction. "Okay, Bebe and Clyde get out," he snapped. "The other two can stay. I think we're past the point of full-on murder."
Bebe and Clyde pouted before nodding, knowing better than to mess with the temperamental Jew. "Okay, just holler if you need another set of ears," Bebe said, leaning down and kissing Kyle's head, his face erupting in a blush.
"I ain't kissing you," Clyde told Stan pointedly, pushing his shoulder as Stan smirked lightly. The two of them made their way out the door and back into the thrall of the party, shutting the door behind them. The remainder turned to look at each other, waiting for Kyle to continue.
Kyle let out a long breath, stealing looks at Kenny and Wendy. "If anything said in this room gets out to those people," he pointed to the door, "Then I will kill all three of you, do we understand?"
"Perfectly," Wendy nodded, holding her hands up. "Kyle, we just want to fix this."
"Hm," he rolled his eyes before focusing back on the confused boy staring at him expectantly. "Fuck, Stan, I wanted to goddamn top and you told me to fuck off!" he waved his arms, watching Stan cringing to himself. "And then you called me a goddamn girl about it!" he continued. "I mean, you didn't even consider letting me have something I wanted, something that would have made us equal. No. You fucking couldn't even pretend to care about my feelings!"
Kenny and Wendy looked at each other, not quite sure how to handle the amount of awkward that had just flooded the room. "Dude, not cool," Ken commented.
"Yeah, really," Wendy shook her head.
"I know, I know," Stan spat, scratching at his hair. "I'm sorry, the concept scared the piss out of me and I didn't want to do it."
"Why didn't you just tell me it fucking scared you?!" Kyle questioned incredulously. "Jesus fucking Christ I wouldn't have pushed if you told me that! We could have talked about it and figured out where to go from there. Instead you had to be Mr. Macho about the whole thing and tell me 'well, you're smaller, and smaller people bottom'," he mocked, making faces all along the way.
"I panicked," he admitted, putting his hand over his eyes and growling at himself. Hearing it coming from Kyle's mouth really made it sound as stupid as it was. Made sense in his post-coital high, but now he felt like a raging retard.
Kyle took a deep breath, staring at the blushing boy and shaking his head slowly. Seeing Stan admit his faults was something, but damn it all if it didn't still feel like the knife was being twisted through his veins. "Did everything make you panic? Because...you never wanted to change anything. Ever," he said softly.
Stan looked at him, tonguing over his lips and trying to beat off his flooding embarrassment. "No. I just...I loved how we were, you know?" he shrugged lightly. "I loved how chill we were with each other. How we could sit in a room for hours and not say anything and do our own shit and be perfectly content with that. When we were dating it was...like we were being pressured, ya know?"
Kyle narrowed his eyes in confusion, "From who?"
Stan looked over at Kenny and took a deep breath, "From him," he gestured to the blonde.
"What'd I do?!" Kenny blinked in shock.
Stan smirked a little, "You became Kyle's best friend. Not me," he admitted sadly. "You were the one he ran to with all his problems. I didn't know there was a romantic thing going on," he waved dismissively. "But...I felt like I was trying to keep up with you because Kyle just didn't come to me with his shit anymore. And...I thought that's what he wanted because he never really protested, so I just kind of fell into a routine," he sighed, looking at the floor guiltily. "I fucking hated you," he grumbled, focusing his bleary eyes on the fibers of carpeting squished under the legs of the table. "I hated that Kyle came to you, not me. I wanted you to butt the fuck out because he was supposed to be mine, and it felt like I was sharing him..." he looked back up at Kenny who was staring at him in bewilderment. "I'm a possessive fuck," he smiled weakly.
Kenny shifted a bit on the couch, feeling Kyle's body under his arm burning like a match. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. "But...I never woulda gone after him while you two were together, Dude."
"I know," he whispered, nodding slowly. "Because you know I could flatten you into the pavement."
Ken snorted a little, "Yeah, that was a bit of a deterrent."
Kyle watched Stan carefully, letting his words sink in and tapping his finger on his arm in thought. "Stan?" he waited for the boy's head to rise back up to him and he gulped, a rush of clarity breaking through all the anger from the boy's admittance. "Stan, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Kenny," he whispered. "I had a choice between you two and...and I went with you and I didn't want our group to fall apart from it all, so I kept it a secret. I'm sorry," he repeated. He shifted a bit and wiped a burning eye with the back of his hand. "I went to Kenny because you closed me off with so many little things I was afraid to come to you with bigger stuff anymore," he admitted. "I didn't want you to...call me a girl," he muttered.
His shoulders fell and he sighed, "Jesus, I'm sorry I kept calling you that," he winced. "You're not a girl, you're way too tolerable to be a girl," he smirked sadly. Wendy kicked his leg but he ignored it, looking to see the barest hint of a smile creep onto Kyle's lips. "Kyle, I'm sorry," he said. "This sucks. This really...really fucking sucks."
"We're both shitty people," Kyle mumbled embarrassedly.
"No, yer not," Kenny said softly, looking between the both of them. "Ya both fucked up. Ya fucked up bad...But guys, it happens."
"Right," Wendy agreed with a small nod. "Boys, you tried and you failed. It's okay. You work better as friends and there's nothing wrong with that. You both need that routine," she looked at Kyle pointedly. "And others can help fill the voids in-between."
"Voids like your vagina?" Kyle stated dryly.
She shot him a sharp look. "You sucked Kenny's dick, Kyle. Don't fucking judge me, you hypocrite."
Kyle blinked, his head falling guiltily. "You're right. I'm sorry..." he looked up at her and took a deep breath. "I hate you with every fiber of my being, Wendy, I'm not going to fucking lie...But you're not a slut. I'm sorry."
"Well, maybe one day we can be friends again," she said softly, her heart dropping just a tad. "You have every right to hate me...just like I hated you when you and Stan were together. I just hope one day you can realize that I never meant to hurt you."
He sighed, nodding softly. "We'll see."
Stan put his chin into his palm and looked over at Kenny. "I would apologize for calling you a whore, but hell, I've been on an honesty streak today and don't wanna break it."
Ken snorted a bit, waving his hand dismissively. "Eh, I've been called worse. Ain't no hard feelin's when it's the truth."
He paused, looking between the two on the couch and taking a deep breath, trying to press down that jealousy that was trying so desperately to once again rear its ugly head. "So...are you two dating now or..." Stan looked at them with a raised brow.
"Ask us again in two months," Kyle murmured, giving Kenny a small side smile. Kenny grinned back, reaching over and squeezing the boy's hand before looking back to the opposing noirettes.
Stan looked at the redhead curiously. "Two months. So...we can still talk and stuff?" he asked hopefully.
Kyle stared into his blue eyes, those eyes that he thought he'd be staring at for the rest of his life, his heart still pounding with hurt but a load of relief flowing out of his fingertips. The contradictory state of being was exhausting him. "I think...we have to work back towards it," he said slowly. "Because I won't lie, seeing you right now is killing me, Stan," he bit his lip.
He nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Yeah me, too...But...maybe we can get back to where we were."
"Maybe," he echoed with a weak smile.
Stan returned the expression, slowly getting to his feet and looking down at the redhead. "I have to go help Cartman fix the mess I made," he winced, scratching his hair awkwardly.
"It's okay," Kyle assured him softly. "I know you didn't mean for it to get out of hand...Just...even if things go back to normal for us..."
"I'm never lying about you again," he interjected hurriedly. "That was shitty of me to do..." He rubbed his neck and sighed. "I kinda just wanted to brag that I'd gotten you and it went further than expected. Sorry, Dude."
He shrugged, a buried part of him couldn't help but be the tiniest bit flattered at the reasoning, shitty as the result had been. "If you help fix it, it'll never be brought up again," he promised.
He nodded, "Will do. I'll...see you guys around," he waved meekly, turning and heading towards the door, grabbing Wendy's hand on the way. The two of them left behind watched after them for a good few minutes, sitting on the couch in utter silence before Kenny looked over at the stoic redhead.
"How ya doin', Kid?"
Kyle looked at him and took a deep breath, staring into that second set of blue eyes. "Promise me something," he said softly.
"What?" he cocked his head.
"If things go right for us...promise me that we won't do this."
Kenny brought a hand up, slowly wrapping it in his hair and petting him softly. Kyle leaned into his touch, moving against his shoulder and staring blankly towards the door, waiting for his response. "I can't," he finally said. "Stan freaked out like he did 'cause he loves ya...But I love ya more," he whispered into his curls. "So if we fight, it could git worse."
Kyle crinkled his nose and looked at the blonde. "You won't fucking tell me if you'll date me for two months but you'll say you love me?"
Kenny grinned cheekily, "I told ya. I say what I want. The fuck is stoppin' me?" Kyle shook his head, leaning back against him and relishing in the tension gone from the room. Kenny poked his head. "Uh...can ya like...respond t' what I said?" he asked nervously.
Kyle's face broke into a mischievous grin, his eyes slipping shut contentedly. "Ask me again in two months." Kenny scoffed and smacked his head, both of them laughing softly under the bass pumping through the room.
It wasn't perfect. Kyle was still hurt, as was Stan. And neither of them knew if they could ever truly return to how they once were. Time and patience was both their enemy and their only possibility of making any headway, which for the two stubborn souls set on the path would be difficult. The wounds were still there, the cuts still visible as they stood next to one another holding the knives. But the promise was still lingering there on the horizon, more than ready for the boys to find their way back into the land of milk and honey from whence they'd emerged. They both knew it'd be difficult, they both knew that it would never be able to fix itself in one fell swoop if at all, but they also knew a truth they'd carried throughout their lifetimes: The two of them loved each other, enough that they'd broken each other into pieces. Now, they both knew it was time to redirect that love into staving through the bleak winter that'd set itself upon them and breaking through back into the light, back to where it belonged.
A/N: This was so fucking apologetic I want to punch them in their stupid faces. Next time is our epi, so I'll see you then. Unless I fucked up with this chapter and all of you have left me to wither in patheticness.
Always a possibility with my writing, tell ya what.
Thanks for R&Ring!